


Not All Was Wasted

by TheAmazingOntos



Series: Change [5]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Magic Revealed, Mild Language, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmazingOntos/pseuds/TheAmazingOntos
Summary: At least people acknowledge me this time. Not sure about the reason behind it, though...
Series: Change [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960861





	Not All Was Wasted

On my way out, I run into Mrs. H, who seems either completely oblivious to the nonverbal cues I'm giving off, or chooses to ignore them.

"Vergil, I haven't seen you in such a long time! How are you? Where were you? Come, let us talk," she says loudly(she only has two volume settings, loud and louder), as she grabs my hand and pulls me into an empty conference room. 

As we talk about the last year, I can feel the tension leave me. I was worried that I had nobody and nothing tying me to this world, that my entire life had been wiped out of existence by events outside my control. I should have known better. 

Eventually, after hearing about my hospital stay, she asks about how badly I was injured. In response, I get up, take off the jacket and t-shirt I'm wearing, and turn around, so my back is to her.

"This was bad, Vergil. Does it still hurt?" she asks, her hand up as though to reach out. She has a horrified look on her face, even though she can't see the ones that did the most damage, hidden under my hair. 

"You can touch them, they're just dead scar tissue now. I was told that when they were finally able to treat me, they had to duct tape me closed. Stitches kept ripping through the edges of those wounds, and I didn't have enough undamaged skin for them to graft over this. If you touch here," I say as I take her hands and place them against my skin, "and here, you can see where my spinal cord was severed by flying glass." 

"What about that one?" another voice asks. It's one of the new kids from the front desk, staring from the doorway with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Come point it out, I have a few," I say to her gently. She looks nervous enough as is, and I don't enjoy scaring people who don't deserve it. She walks in, and almost half of the staff in office follow her.

"This one," she says as she runs her fingers along another, on the left side of my back. 

"All of them happened on the same day. That one looks different mainly because that piece of glass punctured my stomach, and the acid caused damage deep enough for the keloids in that scar to show through. That's the white mass you can see," I say.

Another one asks "Are those scars only along your back?"

"No, I have scars in other places, but I'm not going to drop my pants just so you all can see them," I respond, to a round of groans and disappointed sounds. "Now, if you're all done staring at my fair body, I have to go report for duty in the National Security's Empowered Personnel division, wherever that is."

Mrs. H speaks up, saying, "They're in the old NAPA building. If you need a lift, I'm sure one of the drivers will carry you."

"That's all right, I'd rather walk. I want to see what changes took place in town while I was gone ," I say as I leave for the last time.


End file.
